


Soft Target

by demurely1



Category: The Fixer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Related, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heart-to-Heart, Oral Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-26 01:52:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demurely1/pseuds/demurely1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John visits Rose to offer some support.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This continues and resolves issues at the end of Series 2 Episode 4.  
> [](http://www.flickr.com/photos/44404210@N04/8397685077/)

He pushed the doorbell and listened for the buzzing inside.  It looked as though Rose was home – soft lighting was visible through the gauzy drapes and surely that was movement he could see, peering through to the living area at the back of her ground floor flat.  At any rate she’d be able to see him at the window.  He was familiar enough with the flat to know that.

There was another buzz as the lock clicked and the door sprang open.  He entered and carefully wiped his boots on the mat, still deliberating.  He’d spent the journey over trying to decide how to explain his visit.  Not that his visiting Rose was unusual – quite the opposite – he often came to see her.  She was one of the few people with whom he could have a proper, rational conversation. 

Sometimes he just had to get away from Calum - his crazy ideas and his irritating music; sometimes he needed to talk through his own thoughts and worries; sometimes he just had an overwhelming desire to see Rose.  He knew that often she suspected his motivation, at times even finding such situations amusing.  But, it wasn’t quite like that tonight. Today hadn’t been normal in any sense of the word.

He walked through into the living room and was struck by the sight of her, surrounded by papers, in black silk pyjamas.  Rose was sitting reading over a low table, her long, blonde tresses falling forward over her face.  Before he could speak, she looked up at him blankly.

“I thought you might like some company,” he offered tentatively.

“Did Lenny send you?” she challenged, almost sneering.

“Yeah, like I do what _he_ says,” John retorted quickly. 

Yet it was true.  Half an hour ago Lenny had turned up at the flat and asked Mercer to go and see her, saying something about _him_ being able to help her, because Lenny  himself couldn’t.  Mercer had no idea what that meant.  Except that, after she’d shot Miller dead earlier that afternoon, she’d been angry with all three of them, yet seemed especially furious with Lenny.   

Anyway, John hadn’t hesitated.  He’d intended coming round to check she was alright, because he’d never seen her so upset before.

“I got honey-trapped,” he tried again, giving her an excuse to taunt him.

She snickered and smiled up at him, shaking her head. “When will you learn?”

“Well, I thought it might cheer you up,” he half-smiled, relieved that her mood was broken, but well aware that she wouldn’t be able to leave it there.

“Was she very pretty, John?” she went on goading him about his weakness.  A weakness she knew only too well.  “She lucked out with a soft target like you!”

John moved slowly over to the sofa and sat down beside her, surveying the collection of documents, photos and newspaper articles that she was placing carefully in a filing box. “Yeah, Symonds is going to find out just what a soft touch I am!” he sneered, distracted momentarily by his own anger.

Rose, meanwhile, had picked up a photo of Miller and John caught her looking at it thoughtfully.  She turned her head to look him straight in the eyes.  “You know, I felt nothing for him,” she said bluntly. “I was just doing my job.”

“It’s OK.  It’s finished now.  It’s over.”  John said nodding calmly, anxious to reassure himself, as well as convince her of his feelings about it all.

But she didn’t look entirely convinced, and flicked the photo back into the box, as though she was expelling it from her life. Immediately she crumpled forward holding her face in her hands, releasing a huge sob.

“No, no, noooh!” John moved quickly to envelope her in his arms and pull her to him. “It’s OK,” he repeated, hugging her to his body. “I’ll take care of you. You’ll be fine.” he murmured, kissing her forehead, as he stroked her back.

He held her tight, his lips pressed to her hair, his hands gently stroking her in turns for the next few moments until her sobs had stopped.  She pulled away from him, looking up into his eyes, wiping her face with her hands.  “I’m sorry, I really didn’t want to do that.” she said hoarsely.

John raised his eyebrows with a half-smile on his lips and shook his head. “It’s understandable,” he said softly, his hands still gently holding her shoulders.  “You’ve been emotionally involved with this case for a long time. There was bound to be a reaction.”  She continued to look at him, then shook her head, lost for words.  “You shocked me this afternoon,” he went on. “Why...

“You don’t understand!” she growled, pushing his hands away.

“OK, OK!” he replied, holding up his hands in submission. He looked at her carefully, then spoke softly again. “Look.  Put me right then. Tell me about it.”

Rose sighed and grimaced and put her head in her hands.  Then she looked up at him ruefully..

“Wait!” John smiled at her, as he leapt to his feet, slipping his jacket off his shoulders. “Let’s get comfortable first.” He moved quickly over to the worktop and poured himself a whisky, then brought the bottle back with him and added another slug to Rose’s glass.

Rose watched him sit back down on the sofa, lean down and untie his boots, then lie back along its length in stockinged feet, his whisky within reach.  She smiled incredulously, as he reached for her hand and drew her onto him and helped her get comfortable.

“We haven’t been this close since.... a long time,” she mused, as she settled on her elbows and rested her chin on his chest.

“You mean, since you seduced me!” he smiled, raising his eyebrows, while his hands moved to rest on her hips, his fingers stretching across her back.

“As I recall, you invited me for a drink when you actually meant _a shag_!” she replied, mirroring his look.  

 “Hmph,” John chuckled, “we were obviously meant for each other.” He smiled up at the ceiling, then looked back down at Rose. “So, talk to me. Tell me the story,” he coaxed.

Rose had never seen John quite so relaxed and content with himself. She watched him reach for his glass and take a swig, wondering what had brought about this change.  Then she caught his eyes again with her own.  He looked at her steadily, waiting.

“It’s difficult,” she grimaced. “I _have_ been emotionally involved with this case.” She had no wish to go back and trawl through all her original reasons for getting involved with Miller, so she kept to her motivations this time around.  “All I’ve wanted to do was find out where he’d hidden the girls’ bodies.” She looked back at John.  She knew he had had little confidence that she would ever have gleaned such knowledge from Miller, regardless of what she did.  His face betrayed nothing of these thoughts – she was grateful for that. 

John watched her.  He loved the way her hair framed her face and how her eyes sparkled when she challenged him.  He sensed her unease, however.  But he’d already had that argument with Lenny.  Lenny had been clear.  John had no intention of revisiting that.  He moved his right hand to stroke her brow with his fingers and wipe away a stray tear with his thumb. Then he reappraised her face and allowed himself a half-smile. “So, is that what’s annoyed you so much – not finding out?” he asked, returning his hand to rest on the thin silk covering her back. 

“Yes,” she replied immediately, “but, not just that.” She could tell from his expression, that his question was genuine.  Clearly, Lenny hadn’t told John much. Nothing new there then! “This morning I found out something else – not from Miller, but about the original Miller case.” And so, she proceeded to tell him what her psychiatrist had revealed.

Mercer watched her as she explained about her visit to her old police psychiatrist – the one she’d been allocated when she went undercover, all those years ago.  He wondered why she’d felt she needed to see him again, but waited to see if she’d say.  Instead her grimace reappeared and her eyes filled with tears as she recalled his revelation – _Lenny had known that her original evidence against Miller was likely to be judged inadmissible_ – yet he’d never warned her.  Just let her continue with Miller.  As if it didn’t matter.

John pulled her tight to him again, as the tears fell; shushing her; holding her face against his chest; stroking her back. Inwardly he was cursing Lenny for his flagrant lack of care, though he wasn’t exactly surprised by it.  He knew how single-minded Lenny could be. But then, so was Rose, usually. Clearly, her willingness to put her body, sexually, on the line for the sake of a conviction, or just to glean some evidence, was not quite as easy for her as John had assumed. He released a long sigh. He understood her anger now, and despite everything, he felt quite relieved.

Rose felt his sigh as she raised her head again and anxiously looked him in the eye. He sneered. “He’s a single-minded bastard,” he said, shaking his head. “But he should have known better. You’re right to be furious with him.” He spoke softly as his fingers combed her hair away from her face; his eyes flickering between her eyes and her lips.  Suddenly, she reached up and pressed her mouth against his and her hand against his cheek; it seemed the only way to express her gratitude.

She pulled away, chuckling at the look of surprise she’d elicited, but John pulled her back and kissed her deeply, threading one hand into her hair and grasping a buttock with the other.  He was rewarded by her response– both hands framing his face, as her lips and tongue explored his mouth and her groin pressed against his.  John slid his hands under her jacket on to her smooth skin, circling her waist.

Rose sat up abruptly, and pushing up John’s sweater, leant forward to nuzzle and kiss his naked stomach.  She felt him gasp and smiled inwardly as she detected his clean scent.  She’d taunted him before about his near-obsession for bathing post-hit, as though he needed to cleanse his body and soul after every job.  John had a more rational reason, of course.  There’d been times in prison, and earlier during Special Forces operations, when he’d had very limited access to bathing.  Now he liked to take every opportunity.  She dipped her tongue into his navel and brushed her lips down the line of soft hair on his abdomen, wondering about his previous night in custody....

Suddenly she felt his hands firmly holding her shoulders. “Rose, don’t start something you’re not willing to finish.” He gazed at her steadily, as she sat upright again.  As if reinforcing his own words, he stroked his thumbs down her pyjama jacket lapels, so that his hands covered her breasts, her nipples pressing into his palms through the thin silk.  She looked down and watched his long fingers carefully undoing her buttons, and then opening her jacket and revealing her breasts. John stopped and looked her in the eyes again, waiting. 

“Take me to bed,” Rose whispered, half-smiling.

“Are you sure?” he replied, his brow furrowed.

“Please.”

John’s look of uncertainty melted into a smile.  Then he, somehow, slid off the couch from under her on to his feet.  Before she could react, he reached down and lifted her to her feet.  Then he quickly bent forward, wrapped his left arm about her knees and stood upright again, throwing her body over his shoulder and making her whoop and laugh out loud, her hands slapping his backside. 

He chuckled as he walked through to the bedroom, stopping briefly to switch off the lights in the living area.

 


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finishes what he started and Rose gets her questions answered.

John deposited Rose on the bed and then went over to the window and closed the drapes, mindful that he’d been able to see inside when he’d stood at the front door.

Rose lay back on her elbows chuckling, her jacket still open, as she watched John pull his sweater off over his head and unbuckle his belt.  Keeping his eyes on Rose, he slipped his right hand into the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out a condom sachet and flicked it to her, making her whoop again and dive to catch it.  By the time she was upright again, he was naked and climbing on to her, grinning broadly.

“You’re beautiful when you laugh,” he remarked, settling his body over her and kissing her deeply again. “You should do it more often.” He gazed into her eyes, while his fingers stroked down her neck to find her breast. He stopped momentarily, as he felt her hand slide under his cock and her fingers start to gently massage his balls.

She chuckled again. “I could say the same about you!” she whispered, gripping his stiffening, long, lean shaft and sliding her hand slowly along its length.

“You should do that more often, too.” he countered, breathing deeply, as he grazed his lips along her jaw, then down her neck.  He felt her back arch, pushing her breast up to meet his lips, while her hand released him and moved to his hair to guide his mouth upon her.  He shifted his weight down her body, settling between her legs, alternately massaging and sucking her nipples, as her breathing shortened.  

He sat back on his haunches and looked down at her smiling.  “Let’s get these off,” he said, gently taking hold of her waistband with his long delicate fingers and pulling down her pyjama bottoms. She pulled her knees together to let him pull them off and discard them. Then she watched him as he pushed her knees apart and dipped his face down between her legs.

He felt her sigh and relax in his hands, as he nuzzled her soft hair and slowly licked her soft lips. Her hands pushed into his hair as she lifted her hips to meet his mouth. He extended his tongue into her folds to seek out and tantalize the hard nub of her clit.

“Softly, softly!” Rose moaned, pressing on his scalp with her fingers and catching his eyes.  He lifted his head slightly and reached up to graze a nipple and then run his fingers across her lips, before dipping his lips again to flick his tongue across her.  Rose groaned and thrust her cunt into his mouth rocking against him until she came shuddering under him.

John laughed and went on licking her and moaning and rubbing his face from side to side in her hair until she grabbed _his_ hair and lifted his head again.

“That’ll do, lover!” she admonished, giggling.  “Come up here and talk to me.”

He grinned up at her and, with twinkling eyes, crawled slowly nuzzling her belly, then her breasts, as he came up to kiss her lips firmly again. He looked into her eyes and kissed her again, then rolled over onto his back, pulling her onto him. “What about?” he asked, “What do you want to know?”

She was leaning over him again, propped up on an elbow, with her weight mostly on her side. Her legs straddled his right leg as she reached over to grab a pillow for his head, and helped him get comfortable.

He could look at her easily now.  He raised his eyebrows, quizzically.

Threading the fingers of her free right hand into the sparse hair around his nipples, she pondered on how to ask him the personal questions she had in mind.  Eventually she just launched in.  “I was wondering, just then, who taught you how to do that?” she asked, looking him sideways.  Seeing some confusion, she clarified.

“With your tongue.”

“Aah,” he smiled. Then his brow creased again. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “There was nothing wrong! You’re very good!” she laughed. “I just wondered how you came to be so good!” She rushed on not giving him a chance to reply.  “It not as though you get much chance to practise – there’ve not exactly been many girlfriends recently – since you came out of prison.” She stopped and looked at him questioningly, and was surprised to see him gazing back at her, his lips pursed in silent amusement. “And before prison.... you would have been young, early twenties....”

His gaze moved to her free hand, now stroking his nipple. He clamped his own huge hand over it and raised it to his lips, kissing her palm and then each finger tip in turn. “It was a girl.... a woman...an older woman in Caracas,” he admitted. “She took it on herself to teach me all I should know.”  He half-smiled.

“Oh,” she remembered, her eyes drawn to the scar on his right eyebrow.  Her expression suddenly became more serious. “Were you in love with her?” she asked softly.

John chuckled at her curiosity. “Probably!” he replied, honestly. “She was beautiful and generous and she knew I would only be there for a couple of months...so there was no real expectation of anything lasting. We just used the time we had.... profitably!” he smirked, and she felt his other hand slide over her backside and between her legs again.

She raised her eyebrows at him and breathed in sharply.  He mirrored her look, grinned, and moved her hand down to his cock again.

She took the hint, chuckling as she sat astride his thighs and fished the sachet from her pyjama pocket.  With his help she unrolled the condom down his shaft, straddled him and took him quickly inside her, both sighing in unison.  John smiled up at her, as she started to move upon him, and slid his hands up to grasp her hips. He raised his torso upright slipping his hands round to hold her shoulders and into her hair, whilst grazing his mouth softly on her throat. His fingers finished the job of removing the pyjama jacket and tossing it to the floor. Soon he joined her making noisy gasps as they both lost themselves in the frenzy of fucking.

****

“So what happened yesterday?” she asked him later. They were both under the covers now, illuminated only by the dim light from the streetlamps coming through the drapes.  John was propped up on the pillows with Rose resting on him again, her chin on his chest. She could feel his right hand resting against her side, his fingertips playing lightly on her back. “How did your honey-trap manage to pin a rape charge on you?” His fingers stilled and she felt him look her in the eye.

John spoke calmly and evenly. “It was a simple frame-up really. She picked me up in the bar, we had sex; she went to the police and claimed I’d attacked her.”

Rose frowned. “So it was just her word against yours?”

“Well, it would have been, if she hadn’t gone to the police with a busted lip, ripped clothes and my skin under her nails.... never mind the semen.....”

Rose remembered the deep scratch she’d spotted on his neck the previous night.  “I still don’t understand,” she said slowly, “there must have been CCTV footage of her leaving the room.... and the hotel unharmed.” Rose lifted herself off his chest to question him more urgently.

“We didn’t get as far as a room,” John stated, his eyes like dark pools below her.

Rose’s brows furrowed as she processed his last few comments. Before she could speak, John went on.

“We had sex outside, against the wall in the smoking area. Then she left and concocted the rest of the evidence with Symonds, I presume.” She could hear him sneering now.

She groaned. “You had unprotected sex! What were you thinking taking such a risk?”

John shrugged. “I know, I didn’t exactly plan that.....but her risk was somewhat greater, don’t you think? She set out to seduce me – she must have known I was an ex-con! And apparently she’s married with a couple of kids.... I was just reckless.”

Rose looked at him in surprise. He was showing no antipathy for this woman who’d falsely accused him.  John read Rose’s expression in the dim light and gave her a brief smile and a reassuring squeeze, pulling her back down onto him again.

“I was really angry...frustrated... by having to sit and wait for you and Miller – you know all that.” He waved his free hand, as though flicking all the angst aside. Then he continued calmly as he stroked a finger down her cheek. “She came along and distracted me, made me smile and sucked me in. Sound familiar?” He regarded her ruefully, recalling _their_ first meeting again.

She chuckled, amused by his self-analysis. “You don’t exactly need a psychoanalyst, do you!”

“Not while I’ve got you!” he smiled broadly, as his fingers threaded into her hair and pulled her mouth to his.  She responded just as avidly as earlier, pressing her lips firmly onto his mouth, while cupping his face with her hand. She pulled back and smiled at him again stroking her thumb along his lips. “But what about you?” he asked, catching her thumb with his lips.  “Why did you feel the need to visit yours?” He was finally asking the question he’d been holding back.  He knew this was a tricky area; he’d never heard her talk about her feelings or her state of mind before.  She was usually far too guarded about herself, more likely to challenge or to taunt him than reveal something personal. But already tonight John had seen a different aspect of her persona. It gave him more confidence to probe.

He felt her still and shiver slightly as she considered her reply and quickly moved to pull the quilt over her shoulders and wrap his arms around her under it.  She sighed and laid her cheek against his chest, as she recalled the words the psychiatrist had used. “When it all blew up last time, I was in a very dark place. He’d helped me cope with it all.”  She lifted her head to look at him again. “Your attitude, your comments, about the case made me question my view of Miller. So I went back to check what the psych thought.”

John raised his eyebrows. “Oh,” he said softly, waiting for her to go on.

“He warned me against having anything to do with Miller.”

His eyebrows crinkled into a smile as he shook his head lightly and squeezed her again. “So none of the advice went to waste then!” he snickered.

She regarded him with disbelief again. She couldn’t understand how his attitude had become so relaxed. Here was the guy who hadn’t hidden his disgust about her intention to honey-trap Miller again; who was so obviously appalled by her willingness to take this approach. “I don’t understand you,” she said, frowning and laying her head down on his chest again. “What’s changed you?”

He continued smiling down at her. “Well... being here helps!” he smirked, surveying her body draped over his, his hands stroking her flanks. “You’ve knocked me back so many times.”

“It’s not just that though, is it?” she retorted quickly.  “You’ve been calm and ....happy... since you arrived here tonight! It’s not just about me.”

“I had plenty of time to think last night,” explained John.  “Symonds is the enemy, not .... anyone else.” His thoughts then leapt to the conversation, no, _the argument_ he’d had with Lenny about Rose: ‘ _She won’t ever be yours...’_ Lenny had jeered, ‘ _unless you let her do things her way!_ ’John stroked his hands over her again, holding her tight against his body, not wanting this night to end. His voice softened to a whisper: “It’s all about you.” He pressed his lips to her hair. “And don’t worry about the unprotected sex, I’ll get a test as soon as possible. I’d never risk harming you.”

He heard her chuckle and felt her nuzzle and kiss his chest in response. “That’s good,” she smiled up at him. “I was wanting to try out the banana-flavoured condoms, anyway!”

There was a split second of silence, before John snorted with laughter and Rose giggled until the tears came and, reaching up, kissed his mouth through the laughter.

“Can we leave that for another time, though? I’m shattered now,” she asked.

John hugged her and kissed her back. “Sure. I need some sleep too – after last night.” He rolled them both over and let her get comfortable, before settling spooned against her: one arm wrapped lightly about her torso, his lips pressed against her shoulder. He felt her pull his hand up to her mouth and kiss each of his fingers in turn.

“Thanks for coming round to look after me,” she whispered. “Even if Lenny sent you,” she added, kissing his palm.

“My pleasure!” John squeezed her and nuzzled her neck, then spoke more softly, “I was coming round anyway – I was worried about you.” He nuzzled her again, and continued: “I’m glad he asked me to though. I could tell he _wouldn’t_ be turning up and interrupting or whatever...” His thoughts went to all those occasions when Lenny had done just that, putting paid to whatever John had hoped for.

_Or whatever!_ Rose beamed silently and threaded her fingers through his. _So that’s why he’s been so relaxed tonight! He knew he had me all to himself._


End file.
